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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181025">In and Out of Trouble</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie'>shanachie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, they're always trouble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:26:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha's mission didn't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov implied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In and Out of Trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelskuuipo/gifts">angelskuuipo</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Special thanks to kitkat0723 and dragonydreams for their help with this. It's a bit late, but still within the month/week so Happy Birthday, Angelskuuipo. I hope things continue to improve for you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We have five people trying to kill us right now, what are we supposed to do?” Clint ducked a shot aimed at the rock he was taking cover behind before popping up to shoot back.</p><p>“Actually, it’s more like eight,” Natasha replied.</p><p>“Oh, sorry I wasn’t specific enough!” </p><p>“This is beginning to feel a lot like Budapest,” Natasha said as she emptied a clip towards where the fire was coming from. She turned around and crouched down, fumbling for a new clip.</p><p>“You and I <i>still</i> remember Budapest very differently!”</p><p>Natasha rolled her green eyes as she popped up, firing off three swift shots. “Do you think you could get us out of here?”</p><p>As she provided cover fire, Clint scanned their options. “I mean up is an option, but I’m not seeing a way to do that unless you’re got Iron Man in your pocket.”</p><p>“Barton,” she replied dryly. “I don’t even <i>have</i> pockets.”</p><p>He shrugged, the comment rolling off his shoulders. “You know what I mean.” His sharp eyes scanned the area. “Are we down a few shooters?” He watched as one popped up. “Don’t more Hydra normally show up when you kill one?”</p><p>“Yes, we’re now down to five,” she said practically. “We can continue to test that theory. Or we could just kill them all.”</p><p>“So, see. I wasn’t wrong,” he commented.</p><p>“Because I took out two and you got one.”</p><p>“Not my fault they’re really good at finding cover.”</p><p>Natasha fired another shot, causing the man who was creeping towards them to cry out and duck. “Clint.”</p><p>“I know. I know.” Clint cycled through his options of arrowheads before clicking on one. “Get ready to duck,” he ordered.</p><p>“What are you…?” Natasha’s words were cut off as Clint aimed and fired between the advancing men. She ducked as he triggered the explosion. “Overkill?” she asked as the explosion caught the nearby crates on fire.</p><p>“I mean… they’re dead and more didn’t pop up,” Clint said. “Safe house?”</p><p>“Long enough to pick up our bags,” she agreed.</p><p>“You got another place to lay low here?” he asked as they hurried away from the spreading fire.</p><p>“No. But you could contact Coulson.”</p><p>Clint murmured an agreement as he followed her through the wreckage they had caused. While he picked his way through, he tried to figure out where this had gone wrong. It was supposed to be a simple in and out mission, pick up the intel at the drop site and then head back out. But that simple in and out had turned into a firefight when Hydra had appeared. He <i>still</i> wasn’t sure where they’d come from. There had been no reports of Hydra in the area. “They’re like cockroaches,” he muttered as they paused to check and see if their route was clear.</p><p>“That’s a disservice to cockroaches,” Natasha replied. “Do you still have the intel?”</p><p>Clint patted his thigh where the information resided in a pocket. Although they both wore Kevlar, neither of them was dressed in their field uniform. Instead they wore non-descript black that would hopefully not make them stand out. “Right here. You wanna call Coulson, or should I?”</p><p>Natasha flicked a snap on her waist, causing material to flow out and to her knees. Now she looked like she was wearing a skirt and leggings. The skirt was an eye-catching red and broke up the unrelenting black she wore. Slipping her hand casually into the crook of Clint’s elbow, she tugged him towards a busier street as she answered, “You call ‘Dad’ and let him know we’re ready to come home.”</p><p>He wanted to roll his eyes at her comment, but instead pulled a burner phone from another pocket. He wasn’t sure where her gun had gone, but he also knew better than to ask. His quiver was a bit higher tech than anything they would see around here, but he’d noticed others walking with bows and quivers earlier in the day. He just hoped his set didn’t stick out too much.</p><p>Dialing a number that they had preprogrammed into all of their phones; he forced a smile when the line was picked up. “Hey, Dad,” he greeted Coulson and could see the older man’s wince in his mind’s eye. “So, we’re sorry for the trouble we caused,” he continued. “We’d like to come home now.”</p><p>“<i>How</i> much trouble did you cause?” the long-suffering voice asked.</p><p>“Minor explosion.” Clint shrugged. “Some dead octopuses. Say about eight?”</p><p>“You aren’t sure?”</p><p>“There was some dissension in the count,” Clint admitted. He didn’t have to see Coulson to know the man was pinching the bridge of his nose. “The fire is taking care of the evidence.”</p><p>“I’m not even going to ask why there was a fire. Were you suspected?”</p><p>“I mean the octopuses knew we were something.” Clint glanced around, checking the people surrounding them. “But they’re all dead and we don’t appear to be under observation.”</p><p>“Don’t head back to the safe house,” Coulson instructed. “I’ll text you a location to meet your sister.”</p><p>Clint murmured an agreement before hanging up. He slung his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, dislodging her hold on his elbow. “My dad’s going to send a pickup place,” he told her. “And a sister.”</p><p>“Hopefully a helpful one,” Natasha commented, giving his hand a dissatisfied look. She didn’t flick it off her though, which Clint counted as a plus. “Where are we going?”</p><p>“We’re going to…” Clint thumbed the text messages open. “Here.” He tilted the phone so she could see.</p><p>Natasha’s green eyes swiftly scanned the message. “Oh, honey, let’s go see the cathedral,” she said enthusiastically.</p><p>“If that’s what you want, sugar,” Clint replied.</p><p>Pointy fingers dug into his side in response to the ‘sugar’. Clint pulled her closer, trapping her hand between their bodies. Natasha huffed in response, but allowed him to steer her in the right direction.</p><p>They stood looking up at the cathedral once they arrived, Clint pointing as if he was indicating architectural craftsmanship. In actuality he was pointing out the best places for perches or taking cover.</p><p>He was just beginning to think they’d have to come up with a Plan M when a female voice called, “There you are, Francis!”</p><p>Biting back a growl at his hated middle name, he turned, conjuring up a smile as a petite brunette approached them. He accepted her hug and rolled his eyes at her whispered comment, “Coulson said that would get your attention.” She pulled back, aiming a smile at Natasha. “And this must be the famous Natalia.” Taking her life into her hands, she hugged the red-head, too. Natasha accepted the motion with good grace. “Dad asked me to meet you two and bring you home.”</p><p>“We appreciate it,” Natasha said, linking arms with the girl. “What are we calling you?”</p><p>“Daisy is fine,” she answered. “My brother likes to call me other things.”</p><p>“Like pain in my ass,” Clint responded.</p><p>The three moved down the street. Daisy pointed out interesting sights as they walked, acting like a tour guide. No one gave them a second glance. Still both Clint and Natasha were on high alert, eyes scanning the surrounding area.</p><p>Just when they thought they were going to walk through the entire town, Daisy flagged down a battered cab. The three arranged themselves in the backseat with Clint in the middle. It took a few minutes of haggling since the driver didn’t speak English very well and Daisy didn’t speak the local dialect. But finally, she got their destination across to him.</p><p>Natasha leaned forward after Daisy finished and addressed the man in flawless Lithuanian. He nodded after a few minutes and pulled out onto the road.</p><p>Daisy sat back with a huff. “You could have offered in the first place.”</p><p>Natasha examined her nails as she settled into her own spot. “I wanted to see how you handled it.”</p><p>“Don’t pout, sis,” Clint said. “She does shit like that to me all the time.”</p><p>Daisy didn’t reply, but crossed her arms and looked out the window. The rest of the ride passed in silence except for Natasha occasionally commenting to the driver. When they pulled up to the empty lot, the two women had directed the driver to, he asked Natasha a question.</p><p>She responded in a soothing voice, motioning for the other two to get out of the car. When she joined them, Daisy asked, “What was that all about?”</p><p>“He was concerned he’s leaving us at an empty lot,” Natasha said simply. “I assured him we could take care of ourselves.”</p><p>“Why <i>are</i> we at an empty lot?” Clint asked as he followed the girls towards the back of the lot.</p><p>Daisy reached up and touched her ear. “We’re back,” she said simply.</p><p>A moment later, a ramp came down, revealing the inside of a quinjet. Coulson stood framed by the nothingness. He stared at the three for a minute, then stepped to the side, indicating they should come up the ramp. “Any trouble?” he asked Daisy as the door clothes up behind them.</p><p>“No trouble, but I need to learn a few languages,” Daisy replied.</p><p>Coulson nodded. “Do you have the intel?” he asked Clint.</p><p>Clint patted his pocket as he lifted his quiver from his back. “We’re not taking the quinjet back to New York, are we?”</p><p>“No, we’ll meet up with the Bus in about an hour,” Coulson replied. He eyed the two operatives. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief when we’re back on the Bus.”</p><p>Clint dropped onto the bench. “Sounds good to me.” Within seconds, he was asleep. Coulson and Natasha exchanged glances before she settled in the seat next to him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she followed him into sleep.</p>
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